


Of Angels and Planes

by Madlyie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, I am obviously not capable of writing anything but fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madlyie/pseuds/Madlyie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>prompt: "stuck-in-an-airport-because-the-flights-were-SO-VERY-delayed-and-it’s-like-two-am AU"</em><br/><br/>Enjolras quite literally stumbles over someone who makes airports, delayed flights and being trapped in a  metal can about thirty thousand feet above the earth for hours actually quite bearable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Angels and Planes

***

 

Enjolras hated flying.

There was only one way of travelling he despised more than flying and that was going by ship but since the Atlantic Ocean was too big to swim from New York to Paris he had to settle for the second worse option.

Two times.

There and back.

Pure horror.

He had gotten the opportunity to do an internship for a influential non-governmental human rights organisation with its headquarter in New York and even though he had seen a lot of inspiring people who wanted to do something good for the world – and also far too many Starbucks and McDonalds every day – Enjolras was glad to finally return home to Paris after three long and exiting month.

New York had been an experience, jarring and flamboyant like a giant siring bee swarm, pulsating and catching, but he missed his friends a lot even though they had always provided him with updates, Combeferre about their projects and what was happening in general, Courfeyrac with news about everything else as well as pictures of kittens and bow ties.

They and Cosette, his younger sister, were going to pick him up from the airport. She had been talking about nothing else but her new boyfriend Marius whom she had seen on the other side of the street one day and fallen in love with immediately – because strangers you’ve never met before in a city like Paris were naturally perfect boyfriend material.

But before Enjolras was going to have the pleasure of meeting this wonderful, absolutely adorable law student – her words, not his – he had to survive seven hours in a metal can about thirty thousand feet above the earth.

 

He checked in his baggage and went through the torture of the safety check that took what felt like hours because he had to take off shoes, belt, pullover – the safety man even eyed his t-shirt extremely suspiciously.

He then walked around because it felt better than just sitting in very empty and irritatingly silent hall at 1 am with unpleasant lightening that practically screamed ‘headache’.

Maybe if he just kept walking until he would be able to sleep from exhaustion during the flight later. Also the only opportunity to find a cup of coffee seemed to be a Starbucks.

Great…

 _“LH7895 to Paris…”_ an announcement sounded through the speaker only to inform that his flight had been delayed for two hours.  

Two. Hours.

This was getting better and better.

He should have taken a ship so at least he wouldn’t have to wait in a stupid airport hall that smelled like capitalistic Starbucks coffee.

 

Sighing Enjolras let himself fall onto one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs throwing his backpack on another one when his feet surprisingly crashed into something under the seat.

He jerked back up as something – someone - hit against the seat with an unhealthy sounding crash.

“Oh bloody hell, are you fucking kidding me?” a voice growled in French and Enjolras, despite the situation, was pleasantly surprised. It had been to long since he had heard someone speaking proper French.

A man with a mob of black curls appeared from underneath the chairs, he held his head with one hand and immediately dropped it when he saw Enjolras.  

“Fuck,” he said again but this time it sounded more startled than angry. He looked around frowning, then his bright eyes, a mixture of startling blue and green, returned to Enjolras.

“You know to be honest I expected something more classical, clouds and golden gates and stuff. Not that I actually expected to make it at all, but man, I’m glad I did. Not that I’m complaining, I mean an airport seems very appropriate for the modern times. So, what’s coming next? Are you telling me which plane I have to take? Where does the next journey goes?”

Enjolras stared at him disbelievingly.

He had no idea how to reply to that.

“Are… you alright?” he asked slowly after a moment but the other man only shrugged nonchalantly. “Obviously not, since I’m dead, you know.”  
“You’re not dead.”

“What do you mean, not dead? Is this some weird in-between thing?”

“No, it’s not, you’re not… listen I think you just hit your head very hard and-”

“You sure I’m sure not dead? Because _I_ am quite sure you’re an angel or something so this has to be heaven because someone like you wouldn’t walk around in hell right?”

To his utter horror Enjolras felt his cheeks heating up and after one or two seconds too long he cleared his throat. “You uhm… I think you hit your head well… pretty badly,” he managed to get out embarrassingly jerky and suddenly the other man grinned in a way that could only be described as smugly.

“Man, you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

“What?”

He just laughed then held up his hand.

“Do you want to stare at me lying around here longer or will you help me up?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand up, I think you’ve been hallucinating or-“

Enjolras was cut off by a mixture of a laugh and a groan as the other man stood up without his help. “You wouldn’t know if someone’s flirting with you if they’d give it to you in writing, would you?”

“I thought you had a concussion!” Enjolras decided on being upset instead of trying to wrap his head around the word ‘flirting’.

“Believe me, that head hit some harder things.”

“Really? Because it sounded really painful.”

The guy just winked.

What only made Enjolras more blush; he knew it and it made him quite angry at himself. “Why were you sleeping on the floor anyway?”

“If you think about you’d realize that it’s actually much more comfortable than sleeping on uneven chairs and since my flight got delayed and it’s in the middle of the night I figured sleeping was better than anything.”

“You’re flying Paris too?”

“Yup,” he said and leaned over to grab his backpack from under the chairs, then he ran a hand through his already rumbled hair, he almost seemed nervous for a moment but the tone of his voice was casual, “What about you? Having enough of nightclubs and partying in Big Apple?”

Enjolras snorted. The guy mumbled something under his breath that sounded like “adorable.” He ignored it. “No,” he said and emphasized the word pointedly. “I was here for an internship, doing _work_.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

The man only smirked. “I could tell you if you want to. I am an _amazing_ storyteller.”

Enjolras wanted to say no then he realized that he didn’t find himself totally averse to the idea. It was definitely less depressing than sitting alone in an airport hall. And whatever the guy had to say it could probably distract him from constantly thinking about being trapped in a plane in very near future. He should probably stay with him anyway just in case he really hadn’t hurt himself too much, maybe he was going to get sick later because he had underestimated the possibility of a concussion, he couldn’t let that happen right? 4

Right.

“By the way, you totally owe me,” the other man continued when Enjolras didn’t answer immediately, “for kicking me and then making me hit my head, that was not nice. You could buy me a coffee to make it up to me?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a smile. “There’s only Starbucks.”

The other guy raised an eyebrow. His ridiculously bright eyes twinkled amused. “And that’s a problem?”

 

***

 

His name was Grantaire and after fifteen minutes of discussion about the enormous extent of supporting a company such as Starbucks Enjolras knew that he had definitely made the right decision.

 

***

 

After boarding Enjolras tried to make himself comfortable in his seat but he couldn’t help but getting more and more nervous with every minute closer to the departure.

A few minutes ago he had said goodbye Grantaire, they had been talking for the last hours while waiting for their flight, about everything and nothing, world-wide politics, Greek mythology and frozen yoghurt toppings and Enjolras had enjoyed every minute of it because the other man was infuriating.

The stories he told about how he spent the last year all around the world, travelling and working as this and that, here and there, were fascinating.

The way he talked about humankind was antagonizing and cynical that he never failed to make Enjolras pause in his argument and rethink everything in a heartbeat.

He spoke as much with his hands as with his mouth.

Enjolras couldn’t decide whether his eyes were more of a sky blue or sea green.

He tried to convince himself he wasn’t disappointed when Grantaire had settled down on his seat in the front part of the plane.

Now that he wasn’t distracted anymore Enjolras couldn’t help but getting all tense again and he stared out of the window even though he couldn’t see anything but the lights of the airport until he heard a familiar voice.  
“Mister, you are a lifesaver and I am very sorry to cause you so much trouble,” Grantaire said to the man who was actually sitting next to Enjolras but had stood up early again for whatever reason. He now smiled and just shook his head, insisted it was no problem and helped Grantaire to stow his backpack.  
He flopped down onto the seat next to Enjolras and grinned cheekily.

“What did you do?”

“Well, the guy’s been talking to a stewardess and I had such a coughing fit because of the perfume of the woman next to me, I have to be _really_ allergic to jasmine,” he said with faked astonishment, “he’s a paramedic or whatever and he certainly couldn’t let me stay there, _right?_ ”

Enjolras couldn’t possibly do anything but grin widely and when Grantaire smiled back he didn’t choose to ignore the feeling of warmth that spread through his entire body.  
“Alright, where were we?”

 

***

 

If flights were always like this, Enjolras could probably see himself getting used to them.  
And if he arrived in Paris seven and a half hours later, a note with a phone number and the promise of a coffee somewhere that wasn’t Starbucks in the pocket of his jeans, and his friends teased him mercilessly about smiling like an idiot, well, he couldn’t really bring himself to mind.

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff, fluff, fluff, I hope you liked it. ♥ My apologies for any mistakes, English isn't my first language. I'm also [here](http://vintage-jehan.tumblr.com/) in case you want to say hi on tumblr.


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